A Life In Vignettes
by Blamey77
Summary: A series of vignettes, not in sequence, all surrounding, starring or including one Princess Leia.
1. Diagnosis

The diagnosis was difficult; enough for Leia to return to her apartment without remembering exactly how she got there. She closed the door behind her, dropped her bag on the couch and wandered dazedly into her bedroom. The bed squeaked indignantly as she fell backwards onto it. Leia stopped breathing and sharpened her senses when she thought she heard the door open. Silence met her yet she didn't feel relieved. She let out the breath she had been holding since she left the med centre. The pressure, shock and stress seemed to lessen slightly with her exhalation; so much so that she hesitated breathing in.

The familiar sounds of her husband entering their apartment drifted into the bedroom. Leia stiffened and dreaded his usual loud enquiry upon entry. Somehow his call would make everything far too real; his presence would be confirmed; and it's would be, too.

Leia looked up as Han entered their bedroom and did a slight double take upon finding his wife sprawled on the bed staring at the ceiling. He knew she had visited the med centre, he had been the one who suggested it but he hadn't really expected any serious prognosis.

"Bad?"

He was never one to mince words. Leia narrowed her eyes, not angry but contemplating. More to rid Han of his ridiculously concerned expression than anything, Leia forced her mouth to cooperate with her brain and answer him.

"You're going to be a daddy."

His floored expression mirrored hers.


	2. Sinking

**Shortly after ANH**

She watches the paper intently. Any moment now, it is sure to wither under her intense gaze. The one usually reserved for animate things, not stationery. Yet, still it lies there; motionless; blank and white. She can't help but wonder if she has lost her power. That irrepressible spirit and fire projected through her eyes. Bigger things have shifted in her gaze, why should this paper be any different? The paper, though, admittedly Alliance issued stationery and therefore stronger than your average stationery, should not still be there. It should have fled by now. She can't tolerate it there; motionless and judging and mocking. She wants to throw it off the desk. The impossibly stationary stationery, it seems, however, has shaken her confidence in her strength. Suddenly her limbs seem too feeble to push the stubborn paper away. It will stay there forever. And so will her, at the mercy of it. It is the master and she is the person sinking; falling, unable to remain vertical and upright and upstanding like the soldier she is; the soldier should be.

A noise outside of the small room rudely grabs her attention. She stands. She grabs the paper, shoves it in a folder and heads to the meeting that will determine the fate of the crumbling; despairing; ever-spindly Alliance.


	3. My favourite

**Pre-ESB**

As she entered the kitchen on the Millennium Falcon, Leia noticed the lights had been dimmed and soft music was playing. The table was already set, complete with cutlery, a candle and a decorative table cloth. Feeling uncertain and incongruous, Leia tentatively approached the table. She spun around when she heard Han enter the kitchen with a diffident greeting; not reprimanding her or teasing her or boasting but warmly welcoming her with a pleased tone of voice that matched his hopeful expression. This was so unlike his usual arrogance, indifference or irritation that Leia panicked and suppressed an urge to snap at him in order to return to their usual "camaraderie." She sensed, however, that this situation would not be resolved so easily. Han quietly placed a dish of deliciously smelling food on the table; her favourite.

_How does he know what my favourite is? _Leia thought._ Does he know? Am I just reading too much into this situation? Maybe he likes this dish too, the overhead lights need to be replaced; he likes mood music and just happens to be in an affectionate mood. _

Han lit the candle and shook the match, smoothly extinguishing it.

_Not likely_ Leia thought.

"I uhhh have to go…I have work and…other stuff," Leia said abruptly and fled the room. She quickly exited the Falcon, resolving not to be caught off guard again.

Meanwhile, Han sat silently at the table. He blew out the candle, disappointed but determined.


	4. A Day Off

**Some time after ROTJ**

"Leia, go to sleep," Han gently commanded the woman in his arms. His illness had kept him in bed all day and Leia had insisted on keeping him company; even taking the day off work, a feat unheard of previously. Currently, however, she was trying not to doze off.

"I'm not sleepy," she said, sleepily and unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. They had been talking and laughing for the better part of the day with Leia jokingly playing the part of nursemaid, even attempting to cook a warm lunch for him, despite his protests. However, Han wouldn't have traded all the delicious foods in the world for the sight of Princess Leia in an apron and pair of mitts, fleeing from the kitchen claiming that the oven was making a 'dinging' noise.

"I thought that was the signal for a fire or something," said an annoyed Leia as Han laughed uncontrollably until she began to find it amusing, too.

Han smirked at the memory of Leia standing there with a sheepish grin on her face and the oven mitts clasped behind her back self-consciously. The Princess slung her arm over his face and made an odd content-mixed-with sleep sound. He smoothly disentangled her limbs from around his head and settled her into a more comfortable sleeping position for both of them. Han tightened his hold around Leia, inhaled the sweet scent of her hair and made a mental note to feign sickness more often.


	5. Question Mark

*I don't own Star Wars. It would be cool if I did, I could pick and choose which EU books were canon. Or book.

"Star-gazing?"

The pilots chair squeaked as Han Solo turned around, surprised.

Leia Organa looked back at him, covered only by a white silky nightgown and her long dark hair thrown carelessly over one shoulder.

Han smiled, silently appreciating her bed look. It occurred to him that he had never seen her barefoot. He watched as she uncrossed her arms and took the seat next to him in the cockpit.

"So why are up so late?" he asked.

She glanced at him briefly before looking away.

"Just couldn't sleep," she said.

Han wondered how far to push it; he was too tired to fight.

"Bad dreams?"

The Princess absently flicked some of Chewie's fur off the edge of the seat. She didn't answer. Han recognised that as the first warning sign that she was about to shut herself off.

"Is there something wrong with the spare cabin?" He had checked to make sure everything was working in it before she had arrived.

"No, it just... it reminds me of the last time I stayed in there. I was so anxious about... everything that I didn't sleep at all."

The trip to Yavin. He remembered it vividly. Back when the Princess was just one big question mark that yelled a lot. He liked to think that he had a little more insight now, but he wondered if he would ever really figure her out. The thought that she would be haunted by her last trip on the Falcon hadn't occured to him. Han had offered her the spare bunk, thinking only of her comfort.

"Do you want to try sleeping in my bunk?"

Leia's expression instantly became angry and uncertain.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean- without me," Han said, "I'll take the spare cabin."

She blushed. Then smiled slightly.

"That- that's ok. I don't want to put you out."

"Go ahead. I think I'm done sleeping for tonight."

Silence. Nothing. He was about to say something when-

"OK."

Han was surprised but he hid it.

"Well, goodnight...again."

He watched her leave. Han imagined her laying under the sheets that usually covered his body; he imagined her face pressed against his pillows, her hair fanned across his bed.

He was done sleeping for the night.


	6. Rose With a Broken Neck

**A/N: Inspired by the song **_**'The Rose With a Broken Neck.'**_

The Princess left quietly and moved with purpose through the halls. She palmed open a door and locked it behind her. She looked around at her room for a moment and decided it was too quiet. Music soon filled the empty space.

She sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. She hated the silence. It was during times of quiet that she couldn't stop the wrong from creeping up her throat.

Memories of the ceremony threatened to flood her mind. She tried to keep them at bay but found she was too exhausted. It had been difficult being at the service. The music that had played during had made it harder; it was Alderaanian.

Leia folded her arms, same as she had done throughout the ceremony. Letting her arms hang at her sides somehow seemed too casual, too callous. Hands clasped behind her back straightened her spine and made her look commanding. She couldn't be military with that music playing.

Leia ran a hand over her face. She used to think that song was pretty.


	7. The Night Before

(I don't own Star Wars. George Lucas/Disney owns Star Wars)

**Post-ROTJ**

"How about white?"

"For the bedroom? It's a little...boring. Maybe for the living room."

"I'm really not the man to ask about this. Key word being: man."

"Well, it's your apartment too. I want the rooms to be a colour that you'll like."

"Sweetheart, as long as those rooms contain you…and aren't orange, I'm happy."

"It's so weird."

"What?"

"We're going to be living together. In an apartment. Together."

"Well first we have to get married. And before that we have to sleep. And before that we have to spend a night apart getting drunk and rowdy."

"Oh, believe me I am there."

"So, how about you go eat some inappropriately shaped pasta and I'll go and see what happened to Luke. He's almost had a whole drink so I should keep an eye on him."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be the one in the white dress."

"I'll be the one constantly loosening my tie."

"Switching off the comlink now.…I can't wait."

"Me either, Princess."


	8. Caresses

Leia reached towards her bedside table, searching for the button that would stop the alarm from ringing. She sighed in relief once she found it. The room was then silent except for the muffled sounds of traffic coming from outside her apartment.

The mattress shifted next to her as Han turned over and settled on his stomach. His arm found its way to her, sliding across her skin.

Leia glanced at the arm around her waist. Memories of the night before rushed through her mind.

_The kissing that grew to include caresses. His reassuring smile as he lowered her to the bed. Her frenzied response to the kisses he placed on her neck. The currents of electricity that came out of his fingertips as they trailed all over her. The warmth of his body above hers and everything that followed. His self-satisfied grin as they lay side by side afterwards. The surprised look on his face after she pulled the pillow out from under his head and hit him with hit. The ensuing pillow fight that eventually turned into caresses. Her self-satisfied grin as he lay besides her trying to regulate his breathing. _

Leia turned and kissed Han's shoulder. She noticed the marks on Han's back. Feeling a little guilty but somewhat exhilarated, Leia traced the long red lines. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she thought, "I should cut my nails."


End file.
